Belle époque (EN)
by Ephy
Summary: 1966, Lord Voldemort's first rise. Caught between his parents and the burning mark on his arm, Lucius struggles to live his life (5th to 7th year)
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Belle époque

**Author: **Ephy

**Fandom: **Harry Potter

**Summary: **1966, Lord Voldemort's first rise. Caught between his parents and the burning mark on his arm, Lucius struggles to live his life (5th to 7th year)

**Beginning note:** Since this is my first try to translate my work in English, please let me know if I left mistakes or if some sentences are not correct!

**Belle époque – First Chapter**

The sky displayed a deep, cloudless blue. The morning was only disturbed by the singing of the birds and the wind playing with the branches. The half-opened window allowed the sunlight to sneak into the room, softening the shadows.

Lucius couldn't help but to notice how brighter the light was in the South, so much franker that its North's cousin.

A form stirred at his side and a young woman emerged from under the sheets. Her hair was as blond as his but with a darker shade. She stretched smoothly then looked at him with sparkling eyes.

"Barely awake and already lost in your thoughts?"

"I'm trying to feel the present."

After all, when could he be more satisfied of his life? A woman at his side, academic success – he learnt the day before that he obtained an O to all last years' exams, and the he'd be Slytherin's prefect for the following year – and gifted with the name of one of England's most prestigious families.

She laughed and came closer, her adult body pressing against Lucius', still adolescent. In a month, the habit had been taken, and he let his hand slide on her back, making her purr.

"I'll miss you", she sighed, breathing his scent. "All our customers are not that delicious."

Lucius examined her face, wondering if she told this to all the men who embraced her. He decided against asking and instead pulled her closer. After all, he only had hours before his father arrived to take him back to England.

"I will most certainly miss you too", he whispered in her ear, provoking another laugh.

"I don't doubt _that_. But for how long? When you start school again, you will have all the girls at your feet and I will be but a memory."

It wasn't a complaint, just a teasing fact. Lucius kissed her – at length, expertly, because she and the others taught him well during all July – then granted her a smile.

"None of those will be half-succubus. Be sure I won't forget our embraces."

She wrinkles her nose mischievously. She really looked like a demoness with such an expression; Lucius could almost see two little horns showing up at the top of her head. Only his imagination provided this image, though, because half demons, even first generation like her, never had any demonic attribute other than their ravenous hunger for sex, which predisposed them to a certain profession.

He had always thought that "hunger" was a metaphor, but during those last four weeks he had the occasion to discover how the succubuses and their male counterparts, the incubuses, truly fed on carnal pleasure. Even if their human ascendance allowed them to eat more normal food, it didn't sate them. When she qualified him as "delicious", it wasn't a manner of speech.

The young woman got up, leaving the sheet on the bed and displaying her perfect curves. She wanted breakfast and Lucius was not going to complain.

She strode over him, sitting down on his belly without any complex.

"You learnt well", she smirked. "On your first day you would have blushed like the virgin you were."

"Wasn't it the point of my presence here, Dona?"

The succubus slid her hand on his torso, appreciating his white skin and his muscles formed by Quidditch.

"I hope you'll come back. If you're bored, next summer…" She started moving on him in a very interesting way. "By the way, don't you know Serafino Anghelis? He must be in your year, at Hogwarts, isn't he?"

Lucius grunted.

"I hope you have a very good reason to talk about him right now."

She stuck out her tongue but stopped. Lucius sighed.

"Since you insist", she pointed out. "I just wanted to ask you to pass on my regards to her mother."

The teenager stared at her, but she didn't explain more. At the contrary, her hips' movement resumed. He stopped thinking about questions when her gaze became gold with Hunger.

"I wonder what you'll look like when adult."

Her expert hands caressed his skin and she licked her lips, savouring the hormones he produced on her touch. The door rattled. She stopped, watching it open.

A second woman entered the room – Lucius had enjoyed her talents in the past days. She was Dona's elder sister and was called Afrodite, a name which suited perfectly her pale, sugary skin, her round breasts and the perfect curve of her hips. Where Dona was beautiful, Afrodite was astonishing, and Lucius wondered why such a woman couldn't find a husband to get her out of this job.

Afrodite walked into the room and nodded, satisfied.

"Sorry to bother you, I came to see if you were awake. Abraxas will be there in less than two hours."

She looked stern. Dona pouted.

"We still have time to have a snack."

Afrodite folded her arms under her breasts, making Lucius grunt. The two women looked at him, amused. The two bloody succubuses could perfectly taste his desire. Dona started moving again.

"Want some?" she asked.

Afrodite looked at Lucius then sat on the bed, unbuttoning her dress. The entire month of July wasn't enough to get used to the succubuses' ways and the mere idea of the two sisters naked in his bed could only arouse his interest. He forgot everything, even his father upcoming arrival, when the second body pressed against his.

Abraxas Malfoy was _the_ Malfoy. All in him screamed authority, from his steel grey eyes able to bend any will to the stiffness of his back, including the disdain of his lips and his perfectly cut robes. He seemed at ease in all situations; Lucius never saw him even shudder.

Hence, of course, he was not surprised to find him sitting comfortably in an armchair, a glass of wine in his hand, conversing with Mrs Terry.

Mrs Terry was the bawdy house's tenant as well as Dona's and Afrodite's patron. The house was not theirs, though; it was one of the Malfoy's French dependences, provided by Abraxas for the occasion.

Lucius had heard the rumours since childhood: during their 15th year, Malfoy's males were _educated_ in order to not shame their ancestors. After all, they had to excel in everything, that skill included. He didn't give credit to those stories until his father announced he'd be paying him holidays in France.

Abraxas was utterly charming with Mrs Terry, which looked at him with a certain interest. Since this was a familial tradition, Lucius wondered if they had been lovers, long ago, when his father was his age. The boy pushed this disturbing thought at the back of his mind and entered the room with a polite greeting to the two adults.

"I thought I was in time…" he added, just in case – no one wanted to thwart Abraxas.

"You are", his father said, putting his glass on the table. "I came early to offer my respects to the ladies."

Mrs Terry nodded gracefully. Did she also have succubus blood? Hard to tell. Lucius didn't have the privilege to touch her and, to say the truth, he had been way too busy with the other girls to wonder. The woman had a mature charm, with her spotless dress and her half respectable, half sensual expressions.

"I imagine we'll go, now", declared Abraxas. "Do you have your luggage with you?"

Lucius nodded. They gave their last regards to Mrs Terry then took a portkey, back to England. The shock was pretty hard – difficult to do otherwise which long-distance trips – and the young man almost fall. He managed to recover his balance in time, thanking his reflex, and straightened to meet Abraxas' cold glare.

A long shudder ran through his spine. What did he do wrong, now? There never had been unnecessary warmth between them – he was the Malfoy's heir, not the loved puppy of some spoiled lady – but still. He just came back from a six-month leave, only interrupted by the brief moment when his father brought him to France. He certainly didn't have any time to do anything wrong.

"Here you're back", said abruptly Abraxas, still cold. "You were expected."

Lucius frowned. Before he could ask any question, a known shape appeared at the top of the stairs. Obviously satisfied, paler and stranger than during previous summer, Lord Voldemort walked down to join them.

Lucius didn't remember when precisely he met Lord Voldemort. The Lord and his father always knew each other or, at least, met way before Lucius' birth. His visits, however, were rare during the young man's childhood; Lucius only knew the Lord as his father's longtime friend and a traveler.

Then, he came back to live in the United Kingdom. Of course, Lucius stayed at Hogwarts for most of the year, but the Lord had been invited to Malfoy Manor during the summer of his second year, then his third, when they had been officially introduced.

Hard to forget this moment. Matthew Walters and Serafino Anghelis were there, as well as Samantha Delacroix, all three Slytherins of the same year as his.

The presence of the girl had probably not been desired; she was the only daughter of a French diplomat based at London since 1962, and neither he nor his wife showed any interest in joining the _friend's circle_ of Lucius' parents. Samantha had still been included in the introduction since she was invited for the holidays and all four of them met the Lord together.

Lucius remembered the pulsing magic he felt even before the man entered the room. When he had finally appeared, the Lord had offered him a private smile, or so Lucius had thought – Serafino and Matthew later told him they felt the same way, as if the smile had been directed to them.

Then, the Lord had shaken their hands, finishing by Lucius, and had pierced him on his red, keen glaze. The fourteen-year-old had felt naked, even with his occulmancy perfectly shielding his mind – he had checked, just in case. The perfect but too pale face had approached his. Hypnotized, he would have let him do anything, but the Lord only whispered:

"Lucius Malfoy, isn't it? You're made of the same steel than your father. I'm sure we'll get along."

He then had backed, turning to their parents to congratulate them on such children. Abraxas had seemed very neutral next to the flattered Walters and Samael Anghelis, which had looked at the scene with a smile, pleased.

Since then, Lucius barely saw the Lord, but he still noted his omnipresence in the manor during his fourth year's summer. Seeing him against was then not a surprise; that he was waiting for him was.

The Lord greeted Abraxas with a wave of his hand then went directly to Lucius, looking at him appraisingly – the kind of glance which would have disgusted Lucius profoundly, was then man not that impressive. Docile but tensed, the teenager bowed a bit.

"My Lord."

"You grew up well", said the Lord with a velvet voice. "What a shame I didn't have more time to give you until now… but this detail will be repaired now."

Not knowing what answer to give, Lucius stayed silent. So, now was the time to join this famous _friend's circle_. He had guessed that time would come, of course, but he didn't think it would come that early.

The wizard's white hand brushed his cheek; Lucius fought not to recoil.

"Abraxas, would you leave me your son?" asked the Lord. "I'll also need your office; the afternoon should be enough."

Instead of taking offense like Lucius expected, the patriarch just nodded and escorted them to the place. This office usually was the holy of holies; Lucius himself rarely entered, and only because he displeased his father in a way or another.

A fire burned in the fireplace, courtesy of the elves, and with a hand's gesture, the Lord moved the armchair from one site of the desk to the other, closer to the fire. He sat. Abraxas left them without a word, leaving a stunned Lucius alone with the Lord.

However how strange his father's behavior was, Lucius was not impressed yet. The place was a familiar one and the bright light of early afternoon came from the windows.

Lucius stood, straight and cold. The Lord looked at him for a few seconds. When the silence started to become awkward, he asked:

"Will you serve me?"

The teenager bit his tongue not to answer too sharply. With a calculated indolence, he raised his eyebrows.

"Malfoys don't serve people."

He managed to suppress challenge from his voice, but the sentence was challenging in itself. By luck, the Lord didn't take offense and seemed rather amused by his audacity.

"Good that I'm not some people, then." He raised a pale hand, with long, thin fingers. "I know what I'm asking is difficult. Be sure the reward will be worth the sacrifice."

How did he intend to repay his liberty, exactly?

"The power itself is not enough?" asked the Lord.

Lucius decided to be bold again.

"Don't the Malfoy have enough power already?"

He immediately wished he could take those words back: he was not only a Malfoy and – however how hard the admission – next to his father, he wasn't worth much. Yet.

Nonetheless, his protest was enough for the Lord to answer with a demonstration; Lucius had great difficulty not to stare when he felt the older wizard's power. The magic was dormant, not aggressive, just levitating around them, but still…

Still Lucius' hands were shaking.

"You should know that Magic" and the Lord most certainly gave a capital to the word "doesn't have limits. The power it can give you… that _I_ can give you…" His power stretched wide enough to brush Lucius' body, embracing him. He fought to stay straight, his knees weak. "Isn't it worth submission?"

Sweet Merlin, the Lord had the same voice than a cat, would cats have one. Cats? No, more likely some big feline impersonating one, like a purring panther.

A spiral of pure magic brushed Lucius' cheek, ghost of the Lord's fingers. The boy resisted again. The Lord's eyes glowed.

"You're so worthy of me. So young and already you can stand up to me, showing no weakness. However, you still have to learn when to submit.

Lucius didn't answer. His throat was way too tight, and the magic surrounding him… no. Better stay silent.

"I'm asking for the last time. I suggest you meditate well on your answer before giving it." Acoustic sensuality. Really? Or was the magic blurring his perceptions? "Do you submit, Lucius? Do you give yourself to me?"

He had to accept or to die. The Lord rose and, this time, Lucius let himself fall on this knees – but was it because he didn't have any choice or because he couldn't resist anymore? He whispered a "yes" and, before he could ask himself what would happen next, the Magic dove into him.

To describe the ritual which left the indelible mark on his left arm was impossible. To bear the Lord's pulsing power when he was simply in the same room had been difficult; when it sank into him, Lucius' thoughts simply vanished, swapped away by raw power. His own magic was first overrun, then avidly tied itself to the Lord's, trying to draw strength from this greater power.

Lucius was almost certain he moaned – but then, the experience was thrilling. He could have done anything, had had the world on the palm of his hand, and, most of all… whatever Lord Voldemort would have asked then, he would have done it.

Afterward, all his pride and his rationality – in other words, most of himself – hated this moment. However, when he pictured it, he could only shudder while stifling this part of his mind which was waiting for more.

It lasted perhaps a few minutes, or an eternity. Then, the Lord's magic concentrated in his arm, burning him from pain or pleasure. During a second, his entire self converged to the Lord in a total, perfect connection. Then, slowly, the magic withdrew and he was in his father's office again, panting, on his knees on the carpet, on his knees in front of his Lord.

Lucius hated him then, fiercely. Only his numbness after such an experiment prevented him from striking him, with his bare hands, without even using his wand. The hatred thankfully flew back, leaving him exhausted but lucid.

Lucius left up, disdaining the wizard's helping hand.

"I'll be fine."

He knew he should have bowed, kept his eyes on the floor, perhaps even kiss his master's hand – and this word, _master_, called another wave of rage. Instead, he glared at him, chin high.

"I need to rest. We'll see each other later."

When he arrived at his rooms, the Mark still pulsing on his naked arm – when exactly did he rolled up his sleeve? – he regretted his behavior. Submitting would have helped later. Exasperated by himself, he dropped on his bed and closed his eyes, concentrating his wrath in a more constructive emotion.

Alright, so he was owned by the Lord. He didn't have any choices in the matter; he still had to figure out how to use it. He racked his brains for a while. Nothing, nothing. Merlin, he didn't even know what this circle wanted to do! His father always kept him clear of them, except for his formal introduction to the Lord, two years ago.

Lucius sat up. His first priority was to get information – but before that, he had to make up for his bold departure. He doubted the Lord had been pleased with his escape. Left alone, when he clearly hoped to spend the whole afternoon in his company… That might have been funny if it wasn't so dangerous.

The teenager used his wand to get some good clothes. He had dressed properly that morning but certainly not appropriately for such a great host. If he had to apologize – and Nimue knew it would be bitter – better be decent.

He slipped his robes, leaving the previous ones to the elves, and casted a spell to get his hair done and another to refresh his face. Then, stroking nervously his blond hair, he went to the corridor.

July was ending. August promised to be the worst month of his life – Lucius still ignored it would be followed by many others.

**End note:**

Alright, so this was a test in order to see if my English isn't too bad to actually translate my own work (and if the work is interesting enough to do so).

So please, let me know if you want me to continue the translation!

For those who don't like to review, here's the code:

1) About the language:

A- Your English is fine! No problem!

B- Why do you even bother to try? I didn't even _understand_ what you wrote!

C- Well, you know, it's not that bad. We can handle it.

2) About the fic:

A- Great work! Moreover, Lucius is my favourite character, please continue!

B- We don't care about Lucius anymore (or Harry Potter for that matter). Moreover, your plot seems sloppy.

C- I'm curious. Just do another chapter then I'll tell you, okay?

So, your answer may simply be "AC" or "BB".

Thanks for reading me ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**Belle époque – Chapter 2**

The first of September arrived, leaving Lucius puzzled. After the dark mark's apposition, the Lord kept his promise and _made up for lost time_, resolution which took the form of longs discussions and epic duels. Augustus flew without Lucius noticing and he seriously felt like his brain would melt out of his ears if anyone asked him another question about the writings of an obscure potion master of the XIVth century or the technical functioning of a Patronus.

Of course, his father had been teaching him since childhood, in White Magic but also in her darkest sides, ensuring him a good lead in Hogwarts' academic program. He was used to study during summer the courses not proposed by the school, from Latin to Dark Arts. However, even Abraxas had never required such concentration during holidays. Lucius saw the arrival of September with relief but also surprise.

Indeed, this intensive training – or should it be called a test? – didn't lead to anything regarding the Lord's _friends' circle_. Voldemort himself was the only one Lucius saw and didn't seem interested in revealing any secret nor in taking advantage of his newly acquired servant.

On the contrary, the young man learnt a lot from their conversations and even found himself enjoying them, the older wizard being a mine of sciences. His charisma, of course, was not to be discarded neither.

Either ways, Lucius found himself pushing a trolley in Kings' Cross, railing against muggles and the bloody stations where one couldn't properly use magic to levitate one's bags. Of course, he was not supposed to use magic outside the Manor; the place was mostly beyond the Ministry's reach but, outside its grids, the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery had to be taken into account.

Abraxas had dropped him in the hall, frowning at the mess. His sole farewell had been a brief pressure of his hand on Lucius' shoulder before departing to quieter streets in order to Apparate. Fortunately, Lucius knew the place well enough to find his way alone – if the direction taken by the other wizard hadn't been enough.

They were so blatantly obvious. The Malfoys themselves didn't bother to transfigure their robes – but not because they didn't know anything about muggle mode, just because they didn't care.

He passed through the pillar which took him to platform 9 ¾ and arrived back into the magical world with relief. At last, the academic year was beginning… He managed to put his trunk in the train without much difficulty and took off his coat, under which he already wore his school uniform. He observed himself critically in the glass but couldn't find any flaw: his hair was tidy and no wrinkles offended his robes. On his chest, the red "P" signaling him as a prefect sparkled. He smiled.

The first part of the journey was not enjoyable, though. He had to go at the head of the train to meet the other prefects and to acquaint himself with his duties. Arriving, he was relieved to note that his year's Slytherin's female prefect was Samantha Delacroix, Sam for friends, which greeted him warmly.

"Happy to see you! Summer felt so long…"

"Indeed. I thought you had to go back to France, this year?"

Her father, a French diplomat, had been sent to London only for four years and left during summer for Argentina, where the magical community faced up to serious politic shocks. Mrs Delacroix accompanied her husband and they had planned to send their daughter resume her studies in Beauxbâtons.

Samantha snorted, shaking her auburn hair.

"Who do you take me for? I made them understand it would have totally destabilized me to change both country and language at the same time, without even mentioning the shock of their departure." She pouted with a perfectly lovely, false face, her big green eyes filled with tears. Lucius applauded the performance. "I can go at aunt Monique's for the summer", she concluded.

"And they fell for it? I would have thought that, being your parents…"

"Dad is a good judge of characters but I'm forever his innocent little girl. As for my mother, she certainly had a good laugh, but she didn't insist."

"It would have been a shame to lose the occasion to marry you with a Walter, wouldn't it?" pointed out Lucius, who met Mrs Delacroix a few months ago. "After all, they are part of a minor branch of the Parkinsons' family."

A dangerous shine came to the girl's eyes.

"Matthew wouldn't have left me, even if I had to go away from the UK."

"You most certainly wouldn't have left him any choice in the matter; he follows you everywhere like a little dog."

Sam opened her mouth, probably to defend her boyfriend's virility – who, sincerely, didn't need any help – but the Head Boy appeared, followed by his female counterpart. To their astonishment, they were a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff. Usually, there would always be at least one Ravenclaw or a Slytherin, to whose the members of the Snake's House would refer. No sensible Slytherin would ever ask for help to a Gryffindor, especially a Weasley, and as for the Hufflepuffs… Rolanda Hooch was reasonable enough but she was halfblood. Dumbledore took lots of liberties for a new headmaster.

"Let's begin", declared Billius Weasley, sitting at the head of the table. "First of all, thank you everyone for being here in good time and welcome to our new recruits."

He smiled to the two fifth year Gryffindors, provoking a deep blush from Mary Briggs. For a pureblood, Lucius found her especially aggravating. Couldn't she make the effort to show herself worth of her name?

Briggs had stayed a second-order family until Reynold Briggs, Mary's father, took charge of the familial business some twenty years ago. From little shop, he developed it into an herbalists' network covering all England. A "Briggs" room recently opened in St Mungo, obvious demonstration of his accomplishments and, nowadays, a reception was not successful without his presence. His daughter, regrettably, had taken from her mother – a cute but discreet trophy wife.

At Mary's side, Frank Longbottom boasted, proud as a peacock. Lucius couldn't help but imagining one of the Manor's birds with the Gryffindor's head and snorted.

"What's so funny, Malfoy?" snapped Weasley.

"Nothing, really. Except if the view of Longbottom thinking himself on stilts is amusing."

Eighteen of the other prefects glared at him, when most Slytherins hid smiles or, in the case of Rodolphys Lestrange, seventh year's prefect, rolled his eyes indulgently.

"We're not here to hear that kind of comment!" exclaimed Weasley. "As a prefect, you should on the contrary…"

"Couldn't we just start the meeting?" interrupted Hooch. "We have work to do and I'm not the only one to have reunions in waiting."

Weasley managed to swallow any further protestations, muttering under his breath. Hooch took the opportunity to take the lead and started enumerating their duties to the new prefects while parchments she prepared flew to them.

Lucius listened carefully. Despite of his previous tease, he intended to assume his responsibilities as best as he could; Slytherins would need their support during the year and he could only be useful if his reputation was blameless.

Samantha fell on the bench more than she sat on it, sighing heavily with relief. Lucius couldn't blame her: their patrol on the train had been trying, especially with the overexcited first years – Merlin forbid them to be so silly each year. Neither of the new prefects was used to give detentions and doing so even before arriving to Hogwarts would have been frowned upon at best. Therefore, they had had to listen to the kids accusing each other until they managed to calm them down.

He sat in front of Matthew, next to whom Sam settled down, and greeted the others.

"Walters, Anghelis, Goyle. Where are Pearce and Duncan?"

"They went to hunt after the shopping trolley."

"Pierce would have stopped to care about her weight?"

Sam frowned. Elvina Pierce was one of the most beautiful girls of Howgarts and intended to remain so.

"Did she already plump for someone, this year?" asked Lucius.

Matthew put his arm around Sam's shoulders to reassure her – of course he loved her and her only, and found her much more interesting than Elvina, how could she think otherwise? – and raised his eyebrows.

"I'm afraid this is you, my dear. About this, how was your summer?"

All eyes converged on Lucius, even Sam's, who was both curious and very little prudish for a girl. Lucius took his most nonchalant expression.

"Well, not bad. I went to France in one of my family's houses, and…"

"You know very well what we want to know, Malfoy", interrupted Serafino Anghelis stuffily. "Don't make us beg."

"Really, I don't see…

"Now, you're making yourself more stupid than you are", said Matthew. "Tell us. Are the rumors true?"

"I don't have any interest in telling you, do I? It's much more amusing to let these young ladies check by themselves."

"And we certainly will, if you are not too shy."

Elvina stood in the doorway, examining Lucius without any trace of shame. Behind her, Una Duncan seemed profoundly exasperated. Even if they pretended to be friends, it was difficult to find two people more dissimilar: Elvina was as fair as Una was dark-haired, and possessed a bright beauty which overshadowed easily Una's uncertain charm. Una's face was not unpleasant but common, with a haw too strong to be feminine and slightly globular eyes. She was also tall and lean where Elvina was slender and delicate.

One might wonder why she spent all her time with the blond. Of course, Slytherins had better not to remain alone and Sam always stayed with Matthew, so perhaps Una simply didn't have a choice.

"Are you calling me prude?" asked Lucius. "Everybody is not at your level, of course, but still…"

Elvina was not offended by the implication; they all knew she'd had a few affairs in fourth year and she was old enough to make her own decisions. Instead, she entered the compartment and sat between Lucius and Serafino, forcing the latter to shift on the right.

"A candy to be forgiven?" she purred. "I have a lot of those to give you."

"Stop before it becomes totally vulgar", grumbled Una, settling in and proposing chocolate frogs to everyone.

Lucius took one gratefully and crunched a bit before changing the subject.

"Serafino, I almost forgot… Someone asked me to pass regards to your mother."

The young man blinked, surprised.

"My mother? No, thank you, Una, I prefer acid sweets… Coming from whom?"

At this point, Lucius realized he should have waited to be alone with Serafino. However, backing up now would only make the others suspicions, so he didn't change expression and continued:

"Oh, someone I met in France… called Dona." Damn, he didn't know her surname. "And her sister, Afrodite." That name, at least, was more recognizable.

It must be enough so because Serafino stared, wide-eyed, before suddenly looking down to search after candacids, probably to gain some composure.

"Oh. I… see, well, I'll convey the message."

He took a sweet. Given his embarrassment, he knew who Afrodite and Dona were and knew either their job or their race. The question was: how did a respectable wife like Jezebel Anghelis met two prostitutes? Unless Serafino had been sent there too? The Anghelis family was at least as old as Malfoy's, even if it was originally established in Italy. This kind of tradition could well exist for them too. Lucius took note to ask more questions later.

"Me excepted, what did you do during summer? You certainly have anecdotes."

"I stayed home", sighed Matthew. "My mother had a bad cold during July…"

"Poor you, forced to stay in Sam's company", teased Serafino.

The girl stuck her tongue out in a very immature way for a prefect.

"I, too, was in France for most of the summer. And that wouldn't have been very proper for Matthew to invite my without chaperon, would it? His father barely is there."

David Walters, Matthew's father, worked in magical creatures' import-export. Of course, in their circles, that meant he was the only license holder for most of them, especially the rarest and most expensive ones. That implied many travels and an important marked, as well as discreets exchanges of fully forbidden creatures.

As potion master, Abraxas himself frequently used his services, in particular for purchasing a pair of ashwinders – a male and a female – whose eggs he needed for his research. Their import had been restricted by the Magical Decree of the 11th of October 1847, after the Ministry discovered their scales were used in the_ Desciscere pelliculam_ potion, which took off the skin of the unfortunate victims, skinning them alive.

"My holidays were splendid". Elvina could only have anecdotes material, or the humiliation would kill her. "We went to Spain with my parents and met Asdrubal Fernandes y Mercedes. You know, the egyptomagus who discovered how the _Rosetta Stone_ was used in a ritual? The one muggles found the other half?"

"Of course we know. So, what kind of man is he?" pushed Serafino.

"Well, distracted, I'd say. He didn't make a good impression."

"Yet he comes from an old family…"

Lucius rose; the food trolley just arrived and he was hungry.

"Don't forget his mother is halfblood", he pointed, counting his knuts.

Matthew preceded him by making his choice, offering a few sweets to Sam by pure gallantry – the young girl had of course the means to afford them; even if her father was only a French Ministry's employee, he occupied a position prestigious enough to have a comfortable fortune.

"She's a perfectly passable medicomagus if I recall correctly."

Elvina had a perfectly snob shrug.

"Sometimes it skips a generation, I suppose."

"Well, he's still brilliant in his field", insisted Matthew, digging his own grave. "Distraction is not such a big flaw."

The girl burst out laughing.

"Are you becoming a muggle-lover, Walters? Samantha, if I were you, I'd be careful, he might replace you with a mudblood!"

"I strongly advise him against it."

Sam's voice was calm and Matthew gulped audibly.

"I'll be good, honey?"

Lucius smiled, listening to his friends bickering at each other. Perhaps this year would be alright, after all.

He changed his mind as soon as they sat in the Great Hall. General mood was light, everyone being happy to be back in Hogwarts despite the courses, glad to meet their friends. However, Lucius could only be chocked by the new professors.

Dumbledore became headmaster the previous year, when Dippet had to retire due to his failing eyesight. They didn't feel it too much then, but now… Professor Hansel, who taught Charms, also retired in June. His replacement was perched on a big pillow in order to reach the table.

"A _goblin_?" exclaimed Elvina, disgusted.

"Even halfblood, this is unacceptable! Lucius, you must write to your father…"

Annoyed, the young Malfoy waved at Serafino.

"I'm sure he would have prevented it if he could. As you know, he's not the only member of the governors' committee and has always been at odds with Dumbledore anyway." That was true; but he could have warned him. "Perhaps we are overdramatizing. This halfling might be the new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher."

Snorts were heard around the table. Rumor pretended the position was cursed and, until then, nothing contradicted it, since no teacher managed to keep it for more than a year. The situation suited the Slytherins since most of them learnt about Dark Arts home; it just decreased the mudbloods' and muggle-lovers' knowledge.

"I vote for her, for Defense", declared Serafino, his chin pointing the other newcomer.

He was most certainly right. At the professors' table sat a black woman, rather handsome despite the scar gashing her cheek. Elvina frowned, probably because she sat next to Christian Fletcher, professor of Muggle Studies, who was cute enough to be only moderately despised by the ladies.

"She's ugly to scare", she snorted.

"She's impressive, but not ugly – ouch" Matthew rubbed his harm, glaring at Sam. "You didn't have to do that."

"You'll sit next to me in DADA."

Lucius waved them to tone it down: the Sorting had begun.

"You're _always_ next to him, in all classes."

"Well, it will change this year, won't it? We all took different options."

"The inseparables didn't bother to match their schedules?" mocked Elvina.

She too easily forgot that the French girl, under her lovesick puppy's tunes, was as much a Slytherin as they all. Sam remained neutral to answer:

"At least, _I_ didn't put my studies after an occasion to fuck."

That was true, and the reason why Samantha got the prefect badge. The remark didn't make much sense, though, especially as it silenced Elvina.

A student was sorted to Slytherin. Lucius waited for the cheering to stop before leaning towards Sam, who was seated on his right – he skillfully managed to have Serafino on his left and Mike Steven, another fifth year Slytherin, in front of him, in order to avoid Elvina. He had nothing against putting her in his bed but that would be when and where he wanted.

"What do you mean?" he whispered.

"You'll know soon enough", answered Sam with a malicious smile. "It will be a scandal, believe me."

Though impatient to know more, Lucius restrained from insisting. It would be useless: if Sam decided not to tell, nothing would change her mind. He wished luck to Matthew. On the other hand, the boy was more than capable to reciprocate: he might _look_ innocent, but he was as inflexible as humanly possible.

Another student was sent to Slytherin. Lucius applauded while hoping there wouldn't be too much. After all, Sam and he had to guide them to their dormitories and ensure everything went fine during this first night…

McGonagall, newly promoted Deputy Headmistress, continued to enumerate names. Lucius let his gaze wander over the professors' table. A metallic luster caught his attention and he then noticed the black woman's right hand, or more precisely, its absence. Instead, she had some sort of metal clamp with five curled metallic fingers, probably able to seize glass-size objects but certainly not a wand.

At this thought, a name flashed in his mind and he gave a nudge to Serafino.

"It's Kamaria Jones."

"Mh?"

"Her. She's Kamaria Jones, the Auror who was removed from office two years ago."

Understanding blossomed on Serafino's face, and he glanced at the black woman.

"She was dismissed after her accident, wasn't she?" he whispered, eyes sparkling. "She was a praised duelist, but losing her wand hand…"

"Yes, her spells were not as precise. She received a pension, of course…"

They snorted. The Ministry's generosity was limited at best, especially for elements no longer useful.

"She must rage against them."

Lucius nodded. With some luck, this year's lessons would be interesting enough to actually teach them something.

"You kept Defense?" he asked, clapping for yet another student.

"Of course. My father would have killed me otherwise."

Their conversation stopped then: the Sorting was over and Dumbledore rose.

"Good evening everyone and welcome back to Hogwarts! As everybody knows, I like long speeches…"

Laughter ran in the hall. The headmaster never said more than a few words at the beginning of the year.

"… So I will simply present Professor Flitwick, our new Charm teacher and presently the Head of Ravenclaw…"

Elvina and Una exchanged outraged glanced. Lucius could only agree with them.

"… And Professor Jones, who will teach Defense Against Dark Arts, as I'm sure you all guessed. Another addition was made to our staff: Rubeus Hagrid will assist Mr Ogg, but he'll be here only tomorrow. "

A help for the gamekeeper? After the ex-Auror and the half goblin, they could fear the worst.

"On those words, enjoy your meal!"

"As if we could still be hungry after such an announcement!" exclaimed Elvina while the plates were filled. A half goblin, Head of House! That's revolting. Lucius, are you sure…?"

"Positive."

To prevent her insistence, he filled his mouth with food which was, anyway, as delicious as usual. He didn't have to do so for long: Serafino resumed their previous conversation.

"Which options did you chose? Defense?"

"I had to", confirmed Lucius. "I kept Transfiguration and Charms, as well as Potions…"

Serafino raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"You hate Potions."

"My father… And I passed the courses anyway."

Lucius cut a piece of lamp, intending to eat it before it cooled and lost its flavor.

"What else? Not Herbology?"

"If you like wade through mud, I'll leave it to you, thank you very much. No, I took Antic Runes, Astronomy and Arithmancy."

"You should have been sorted into Ravenclaw", commented Serafino.

"Don't tell me you chose Divination or Muggle Studies?"

"Care of Magical Creature _is_ an interesting course and I never understood anything to Arithmancy anyway."

Lucius swallowed a piece of meat.

"Oh, I forgot. I kept History of Magic…"

They made a face. Professor Binns was the most boring of the whole school, but his course was all the more important that it covered the evolution of Magic Law, an essential knowledge for a Malfoy or an Anghelis.

"At least he doesn't notice when we sleep in class", sighed Serafino.

"That's what quick-quotes quills are for", confirmed Lucius, filling his glass with pumpkin juice. "Merlin, _ten_ first years? Couldn't they be any fewer? We're only eight!"

"Ah, _le revers de la médaille_! Good luck with your prefect responsabilities. Do you intend to leave the Quidditch team?"

Lucius gave him an indignant look.

"No way! Martins finally graduated so perhaps we'll have a tolerable Seeker…"

"You mean, _less catastrophic._"

"That's exactly what I meant. We might even have a chance for the Cup this year."

Not very interested by sport, Serafino merely shrugged and focused on his plate's peas, which desperately tried to escape his fork. Lucius took the opportunity to clean his own plate with a spell, then to levitate to him a piece of pie. Better enjoying what time he had for dessert; he wouldn't have any left after dinner.

_Thank you for reading me! Please don't hesitate to point out my mistakes and to let me know what you think about my version of Lucius and about my numerous OC's :)_


	3. Chapter 3

**Belle époque – Chapter 3  
**

Lucius wanted to hang the brats. One by one. By the feet to the branches of a very high three. Why wasn't there a Whomping Willow in Hogwarts?

"Think to all the times you'll be able to get out without risking detention", laughed Samatha, who had had less trouble to keep calm.

"Peachy."

Lucius sank into an armchair, annoyed and exhausted. They had arrived Thursday first of September in the evening and, this Sunday, he still didn't manage to find a minute for himself. To finish spoiling the beginning of the school year, Elvina was around him at every opportunity, which would have been appreciable if she didn't look so much like a raptor watching its prey. He intended to let her stew a bit.

"Where are the others?"

"Well, Elvina will arrive soon…"

Lucius rolled his eyes.

"Just kidding. Though Matthew and Serafino should be arriv… Here they are."

"So, how's perfect's life?" asked Matthew, kissing his girlfriend. "Not too exhausting?"

"Go to hell, Walters."

"I'll take that as a yes. Sure you'll keep up for Quidditch?"

"Why does everybody persist to ask me this question?" grumbled Lucius. "I'm a Malfoy. Of course I'll manage."

Matthew didn't make any comment but his look talked for him and, being like Lucius Chaser for the team – the third being a pretty good sixth year – he certainly had more of a say on the matter than Serafino. As long as he didn't mention this to the captain, Lucius didn't care.

Obviously, that wasn't in Matthew's immediate to-do list because he stopped wondering about Lucius to loose himself in his sweetheart. Serafino rolled his eyes.

"Take a room. Sam, you're a prefect."

The young girl stuck her tongue at him – again – but seemed to find the observation relevant and dragged her boyfriend along with her towards a more discreet place. Serafino took her place on the armchair, just in front of the fireplace.

The seventh and sixth year had been deserting the Common Room for the evening; otherwise they wouldn't have such a good spot. The only other fifth year around was Mike Stevens who, as usual, was reading alone in a corner. Halfblood, it would have been better for him never to be sorted in Slytherin – but, at least, he developed excellent survival techniques. Lucius came almost to enjoy his discreet presence.

For the conversation he had in mind, however, he'd need some privacy.

"_Coercere_."

An invisible bubble wrapped around them, allowing them to talk without fear of being overheard. Serafino rested his chin on his fist, elbow propped in the armrest.

"A problem, Malfoy?"

"I'm just curious. So, your mother knows Dona and Afrodite. »

Anghelis winced. Obviously, he had been dreading this conversation.

"Sort of. That really doesn't concern you."

"Come on, you can tell me…"

"No."

His answer was too abrupt to push the matter any further. Lucius sighed.

"_No questions, no lies_, right?"

"Exactly."

A pair of fourth year passed them to take the stairs, giggling and glancing at them. They were ordinary, so Lucius just ignored them. Serafino nonchalantly ran his hand through his long, black hair, almost causing a fainting.

"Wanker."

"This qualifier applies better to Matthew. Or even you."

"You dare say you didn't play that to the gallery?

"Well, looking like two frivolous teenagers allows us to talk about even more serious matters, doesn't it?"

Lucius raised one eyebrow. Didn't he just say he didn't want to talk about his mother? Serafino smiled and confirm this thought by a question:

"How was it?"

Immediately, Lucius tensed.

"What are you talking about?"

"Not your summer in France, obviously. No, you know very well… You met him, didn't you?"

"Do you really think the Common Room is the right place to…" hissed Lucius, before being interrupted.

"Of course it is. Nothing would be less suspicious."

Serafino glanced toward the girls, who gave up to going down to their dormitory to sit back in their chairs, giggling. He sent them a smile – Lucius had to admit the boy seemed perfectly charming with this expression – before resuming their conversation.

"So?"

"If you don't know yourself, there's nothing to say."

"Do tell! For me, it's scheduled for December, during Christmas."

He made this announcement with shining eyes. Lucius shuddered. His classmates didn't seem as reluctant as he had himself been.

"It's not something you can explain", he said at last.

This lack of details disappointed Serafino, but he didn't push.

"Do you know if Matthew…?" risked Lucius.

"Not that I know. Next year, perhaps."

So, he had been the only one. Or did Elvina…? Or Lawrence Goyle? He had no idea and certainly wouldn't ask.

"Don't you dare to ask me such questions again."

Serafino shrugged and rose, breaking the silencing bubble. Lucius expected him to go down to the dorms but he headed instead for the girls and talked a bit. Unlike Matthew, Serafino had never been a heartbreaker. However, he developed an almost feminine grace which obviously pleased girls. Who knew? He might manage to get both?

They weren't worth Dona and Afrodite, though. Or even one of them.

"You stay here all alone, Malfoy?"

Lucius held up to the newcomer and fought back a wince.

"Clint. You came to take back your seat?"

Clint Zabini was in seventh year and hence, following the Slytherin's logic, he had the right to chase him from the best seats. However, he simply shook his head and sat in the armchair abandoned by Serafino. Lucius tried to stop breathing. For Nimue's sake, the lessons didn't even start yet and this dude already stank of alcohol! He didn't understand why Dumbledore allowed him to stay in Hogwarts. Didn't Slughorn tell him how horrible he was? Alright, he was a genius at potions, but still…

Lucius observed him discreetly. Clint was reading an old book with a worn binding and didn't pay any attention to him. Or, at least, not ostensibly. He also was a Slytherin, after all.

This guy was disgusting. Big, gad, he seemed five year older than he truly was. He also didn't manage to look anything else than dowdy. Moreover, he bore his mother's name, Zabini, whose brother married a black woman – which, without being as tasteless as marrying a muggle, was still a bit scandalous.

Clint's podgy fingers turned delicately his book's pages. Lucius hoped he wouldn't leave seeping traces on the paper. He waited a few minutes, to be polite, then left. Rising, he crossed Clint's sparkling gaze.

Lucius straightened dignifiedly and went back to his dormitory. Lessons would begin the following day and he intended to be sufficiently rested to cope.

sososo

Sitting at Slytherin's table in the Great Hall, Lucius tried to keep his nose at least a few inches above his breakfast. He had had an agitated night and, regrettably, not for the best reasons: he had awake stupidly at about 4 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep. He stifled a yawn with dignity and concentrated on his bacon. He'd need strength for his day.

While he chewed his meat, the usual cacophony started: vivid flaps, feathers everywhere… The daily owls arrived in their usual, unhygienic way. Why on Earth did the wizards still use such a way to communicate? Professors probably decided morning was the best moment for such a mess. At least, it awaked the half-asleep students, at their chagrin.

"Don't look so desperate, Lucius", said Elvina, amused. "We'll all end up believing you're not up to it."

He was ready to bite back but an envelope landed in front of him, next to his plate. He took it, frowning, and put it away in his bag before offering a piece of meat to the eagle-owl which perched on the back of his seat. Hard not to recognize Abraxas' eagle-owl. Lucius preferred not to read this letter before going to classes.

He racked his brain to guess why he got such a letter – then a shriek vibrated through the Hall. The eagle-owl flew away, indignant. The scream changed into a whistle and a deep red envelope rose above Slytherin's table, just in front of a blushing Una.

"HOW DARE YOU, UNWORTHY DAUGHTER!" yelped the Howler. "DO YOU WANT TO KILL US FROM SHAME, YOUR FATHER AND I? NO MEMBER OF OUR FAMILY EVER WAS SUCH A BLOOD TRAITOR!"

"By Circe, what is happening?" grumbled Serafino, at Lucius' right.

They were both wincing: Una's mother was able to rise high in acute. Lucius didn't bother to answer. The letter was going to explain by itself, probably.

Indeed, it was going on:

"MUGGLE STUDIES? HOW _CLOUD_ YOU?"

This time, the whole Slytherin table froze. Una dared to take this class? Was she mental? Lucius rose and quickly headed to her. His gaze crossed Sam's, who wore a terribly satisfied smile. For a second, he had a doubt: did she register Una unwittingly? The two girls didn't get along that badly…

Sam pointed her chin toward a very pale Elvina, who was taking advantage of her neighbours' distraction to hide a letter of her own. Lucius suddenly understood: so that was the meaning of Sam's acid repartee of the other day, when she told _she_ didn't put her studies before a _fuck_. Those two idiotic girls registered to Muggle Studies, for the sake of the cute Professor Fletcher!

Lucius reached Una at the second when the Howler started to tear itself apart. He caught her wrist before she could fly away. Professor Slughorn was arriving, followed by McGonagall. Lucius managed to intercept them too.

"Don't worry, professors. I'm sure this little problem will be solved quickly", he started, not leaving them the time to ask questions. "I'll take care of Miss Duncan. We will write to her parents who, I'm sure, will admit this is just a horrible mistake."

A Slytherin's prefect pleading for Una to stay in Muggle Studies could only move McGonagall, who agreed with a dry nod. Slughorn himself didn't need explanations: he knew familial affairs had to stay private. No need for the whole school to get involved.

"Very well, Mr Malfoy. As you wish. Don't hesitate to come and see me if the problem persists…"

"I will, Professor", assured Lucius. "Una, if you will…?"

Una nodded. Her cheeks were crimson and her eyes sparkling with rage. She followed him outside the Hall. By luck, no Slytherin did any comment on their way. He searched for Elvina – she might need help too – but the girl only frowned. He understood she could manage on her own.

When they were far enough in the corridor, Lucius finally let go Una's wrist and glared at her.

"Are you mad? Muggle Studies? Your parents are going to kill you!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy", she retorted sharply. "My parents are not so stupid as to deny me for so little."

"Oh really?"

He was snide, and for a reason: he didn't remember even seen another Howler landing in Slytherin. Usually, only Gryffindors and some Hufflepuff indulged in such boisterous practices. The member of his house, as most Ravenclaws, preferred not to wash their dirty linen in public.

Una blushed again and Lucius noted her fists, enough clenched to make her knuckles whiten. However, the young girl lifted her chin arrogantly, a cynical smile on her lips.

"My mother is Spanish and those people know how to humiliate others while looking as if they simply made a gaffe. Don't worry. She'll consider the Howler sufficient punishment."

"If you say so." Lucius sighed and headed for the nearest study room. "Still, let's write an answer. Better put all odds on your site, don't you think?"

Una agreed and followed him. Lucius observed her while they walked. Well, she indeed seemed more angry than worried; it should be fine.

sososo

The letter was written quickly but carefully. Una might not be the closest of his friends and might have put herself in this situation alone, but Lucius still didn't want to see her excluded from her family for such a trifle. Hence, he helped her phrase her answer, as calmly and maturely as possible. They used the transparent excuse of wanting to know better the enemy ad hoping to sabotage the lesson.

Of course, they arrived late for their first class. Everybody was already seated when they made it to the door for DADA course and Lucius could only apologize to Professor Jones.

"Don't worry, Professor McGonagall warned me", assured the professor, clapping her clip-hand shut. "Pray take your seats."

Una went next to Elvina and Lucius sat by Serafino, who kept him a seat just before Matthew and Sam, on second row. Good; Lucius was curious to see what this woman had to teach them.

Her name was already written on the board and he could only suppose she already introduced herself. She directly started her explanations while he took his quills and parchment. Serafino pushed his ink pot toward him and Lucius thanked him with a nod.

"Magic", explained Jones, "has a complex and changing nature. Lots of diverging theories existed through the ages, from the four elements – originally a Greek theory – to the more linear one where Magic is seen through a grey spectrum. From the last comes concepts like White or Black Magic.

The chalk was drawing on the board while she talked, illustrating her words. Lucius fought back a yawn. They already studied this matter in first year, when their teacher at the time had wanted to give a definition of the lessons' title.

He jumped when the chalk screeched, drawing a large cross on both theories.

"This is bullshit", declared Jones deliberately. "None of them are compatible with what we know about Magic nowadays. It's a fact and, even though the current great thaumaturgists don't seem able to produce a replacing theory, some certainty are emerging. Any ideas?"

Now, that was more interesting, even if he didn't see what precisely that had to do with DADA. On the other hand, each Professor teaching this course had his own agenda.

This time, at least, it seemed interesting. He exchanged a thrilled glance with Serafino over their common ink pot. Maybe this year wasn't going to be _that_ boring, in the end.

sososo

Lucius fixed the message he just red as if he could hypnotize it. He had forgotten it since the morning, being first too preoccupied with others' troubles then by his own activities. He remembered the letter only in the evening, in his dormitory.

The message was brief: "Come home Saturday at 18", followed by Abraxas' intricate signature.

This was totally unusual. His father regularly sent him mail to inquire about his school results, but never that early in the schoolastic year. That should have put a bug in his ear. And then to ask him to come in the Manor a week after term started? Without any excuse? Lots of students went home for the week-end, of course, especially the three first years, but not him.

That had to do with the Lord or he wasn't a Malfoy.

"What's the matter? Is there a problem?"

Matthew was looking at him, sprawled on his bed, his head resting on his folded arms. Lucius bit his lip.

"Maybe. I have to go home on Saturday…"

"I beg your pardon?"

The other Slytherin sat up, shocked.

"And you say you _may_ have a problem? What did you do to bring Zeus' wrath on you that early?"

Abraxas' temper unfortunately stood the comparison.

"Nothing", Lucius answered. "That's why I'm worried."

Matthew darkened but didn't say anything, being more cautious than Serafino. As a result, Lucius nodded, confirming his fears.

"I'm not sure", he added, to be accurate. "But…"

"But that can't be anything else."

The silence came back, oppressing. Lucius had no desire to see the Lord again and his curiosity about the _fraternity_ was way lower than his fears. Gryffindors could pretend as much as they wanted that bravery was a virtue; clog one's ears and eyes to pretend the danger didn't exist was simple stupidity.

"As long as he doesn't ask you to go home during Quidditch's matches…"

Matthew' comment wasn't enough to lighten the atmosphere. The attempt was still appreciable. Lucius make an effort.

"A card game?" he proposed. "With you, I'll only bet sickles, but that will pass the time pleasantly."

"Afraid to get fleeced, Malfoy?"

"I know your hands' abilities."

"Oh, certainly not half of them!"

Lucius rolled up his eyes.

"Keep the others for Sam and take your cards."

Matthew laughed and stretched to reach his nightstand, where he kept his pack of cards. Being damaged by years of intensive use and costing barely two stickles, it didn't need protection from thieves.

"Just an Exploding snap or are we calling Serafino to play at something more challenging?"

Lucius shrugged and Matthew distributed the cards. All the better: the game would be quick and intense. With luck, it would distract him entirely from Abraxas' letter.

sososo

The week-end arrived way too early to his taste. After September first twists, the week ended quite calmly and the days had pass without him noticing.

To Lucius' surprise, Professor Flitwick was actually qualified, which largely compensated his lacklustre ancestry – in his eyes, at least. Elvina was talking about not keeping the course for her NEWTs if the teacher stayed. Coming from someone who chose to take Muggle studies for Christian Fletcher's blue eyes, Lucius found the idea most unwarranted. He doubt she'd say the same if Flitwick had been half veela.

Lucius was finishing his last assignment of the week at the end of the afternoon, trying hard not to look at the Common room's clock too often. He usually didn't work quite that much but he felt the need to occupy his mind. Lessons had been sufficient during the week and Friday evening had been busy with Quidditch trials – an excellent Seeker replaced Martins, which had finished his studies the previous year – but Saturday had been way too long.

He red over his dissertation on the personality influence on wizards' elemental magic, then resigned himself to put it an end. Matthew had disappeared with Sam after dinner and Serafino was busy reading an Italian classic to work on his vocabulary. From his year, in the Common room, were only Elvina and Una who were commenting on their Muggle studies' lesson caustically.

"Are you sure they spend hours sitting in front of animated painting?" asked Lucius, annoyed, rolling his parchments.

Elvina straightened an imaginary fold of her skirt, smiling at him from below.

"I assure you it is the case. Apparently, it is one of their favourite activities for evenings and week-ends."

"Professor Fletcher had a hard time explaining why they found it exciting", said Una. "He's pureblood, right?"

"Of course!" replied Elvina indignantly. "Dippet himself engaged him, not this muggle-lover Dumbledore."

"And that's probably why he only teach nonsense", grumbled Lucius.

Malfoy despised muggles. However, a basic knowledge of their culture was required for business, since the wizard community of Great-Britain was not self-sufficient. Much of their food, notably, came from the muggle world. Purists like the Pearce preferred to forget it but Lucius himself was fully capable to cross the muggle London without being noticed.

Which didn't mean he took the trouble to dress properly in order to take the Hogwarts Express. After all, they had to remind everyone that Malfoy snubbed everything and everyone, first of all the Ministry.

"Most mudbloods arriving at Hogwarts are surprised to see the pictures move", he said to the girls. "Didn't you notice?"

Elvina wrinkled her nose, apparently disgusted by the idea to sully her pure little blue eyes by looking at _impure_ wizards. Una, on the other hand, agreed.

"I wondered about the same thing during classes. Perhaps the device is simply different?" She checked her lecture notes without finding any answer. "I guess their paintings are not from actual people. They might be chocked by the fact we talk to our dead's' imprint.

The remark was relevant, if not correct. Unfortunately, Lucius couldn't give a better explanation so he dropped the matter.

"I'll leave you on this inquiry if it amuses you, miss." He put away his parchments and ink pot, keeping his quills in his hand in order to wash them. "You'll tell me what you find, eventually."

Elvina had a totally snub laugh.

"As if we'd really be interested in muggles' life! Come on, Lucius, you're not serious."

"Well, since you follow the lessons, you might as well take the OWL…"

"No thanks! If they're stupid enough to fix a paintings for hours, good for them; at least, so, they won't bother good wizards' work."

Her tone of course implied she was well above those _good workers_. Lucius and Una exchanged a half amused, half exasperated glance. Then Lucius headed for his dormitory; he still had half an hour before leaving for the Manor.

Elvina was right about one thing: if Fletcher was stupid enough to teach such idiocies about muggles, Lucius would certainly not lose time to wonder about the real muggle lifestyle. This wizard really was the dregs of society. A pureblood giving such a lecture! That was ridiculous.

He rinsed his quills then dried them carefully and took the time to change clothes before leaving. Serafino raised his eyebrows as Lucius put on a robe way too good for a simple family meal. Thank Nimue, he didn't point it out. Lucius had no desire to give an explanation. He grabbed a silver earring, his portkey, and went up through the Common Room towards the Great Hall.

Professor Slughorn had been warned of his departure for the week-end and had told Picott, the caretaker, to let him out. The man hence let him go without any fuss but a glance. This hateful man had nothing to do at Hogwarts where he was surrounded with teenagers younger and more capable than he. Lucius couldn't help put to address him a condescending smile. He remembered too well the cane blows he had received in third year for a stupid story of pinched candies.

A slim but persisting drizzle was spatting, outside. Lucius hurried and closed his cloak's collar. He'll probably be a few minutes early.

The portal let him out and, as soon he crossed it, he activated the portkey.

sososo

The bad feeling he'd had the whole week increased when he arrived at the Manor. The elf who appeared to take his wet cloak seemed worried and stammered for a few moments before telling him he was expected in the winter's parlour. This room was only used with guests and, indeed, his father was in the Lord's company – which wasn't really a big surprise.

The presence of Theodric Nott and Cygnus Black, however, was. Of course, none of the men rose when Lucius entered. Nott even produced a snort, when the idiot only got out of Hogwarts the previous year – and with only seven NEWTs.

The mood was apparently not to evaluations anymore, nor to friendly discussions. Volemort's presence was overwhelming, sweeping away bragging Nott's and vapid Cygnus'. Only Abraxas, seated on his right, remained as impressive as ever.

Lucius entered to pay his respects to his father and then, tentatively, to the Lord. Surprisingly, the latest offered him a measured smile.

"How's term beginning? Not too boring, I hope?"

"Truly, I'd say it's full of surprises. You certainly know the new Headmaster think he can do as he pleases…"

"There's no point in bothering our master with schoolchild's stories", Not intervened.

Lucius addressed him a cold glance, which had no result until it was supported by the Lord's words:

"I asked him a question and think to have the right to judge myself of the answer's interest." Nott swallowed. Voldemort smiled and turned back to Lucius. "I heard of course about his unfortunate choice regarding teachers. I hope it's tolerable?"

"Well, surprisingly, Flitwick is actually gifted. A shame his lineage is so tarnished, truly."

"Thank you for this observation. I'll take it into account when I'll deal with Hogwarts."

The Lord had a cat's smile and Lucius felt a shiver when up his back. Ignoring what to say, he bowed, and this seemed end the conversation.

Voldemort and Abraxas rose, quickly imitated by the others.

"Cygnus, you know what to do. Theodric, meet us in the Hall within five minutes."

Both bowed and left the room. The Lord directed his attention to Lucius again, serious and satisfied.

"Now is the time to prove your fealty. I'm sure you'll be up to the task."

The boy felt his throat tighten. What was going to be asked from him? Nott was an idiot but Cygnus Black, however insipid, was a sensible man, and he was almost grey when he left.

"Would you allow me to come by, Abraxas?" The Lord put his hand on the patriarch's shoulder, as amused as if they were sharing some private joke. "I'd like to be there when your son will make me his first offering."

"You know you're always welcome at my side, my Lord."

"Perfect. I'll be waiting for you, then."

He left the room in a rustle of black cloth, brushing Lucius' shoulder as well as he passed by, conniving. The teenager reported his attention on his father who waved at a simple box on the table.

"Put it on", ordered Abraxas with an imperious voice. "Obey to all his orders without hesitating and come back here immediately when we're done. Do you get me?"

Lucius didn't even dare to blink. His father pierced him with a long glare of his cold, grey eyes. Seeing the boy managing to keep his face blank, the patriarch nodded, satisfied, and Lucius allowed himself to breathe.

He opened the box apprehensively. He lifted the lid and almost startled. Placed on the shiny black of a dress fabric, his second face sent him a mad grin. A mask.

sososo

_Thank you for reading me! Please don't hesitate to point out my mistakes and to let me know what you think about my version of Lucius and about my numerous OC's :)_


End file.
